4.20.17

Today is the toker’s holiday and unfortunately (or fortunately) I’m not cool enough to be apart of it. I have smoked before, but it’s just not for me. I prefer a beer. I do, however, drink Sweetwater 420 sometimes. I started drinking it because of the name and then I ended up liking it. Plus, no one else likes it, so no one will touch it. I hear a lot of people smoke to get rid of anxiety, but it just makes me more anxious.

Anyway, so I really am sick, it’s not just allergies in case anyone reading was holding their breath for this post. I know, my life is just so intriguing. Haha. I woke up at 5am today and worked for 9 hours. It was cool because the day ended a lot faster, but when I woke up this morning, I couldn’t even swallow. *insert dirty joke here* I figured I’d power through because there’s worse that could happen, right? I’m not the type to call out just because I’m not feeling well. If I call out of work, it’s because I physically cannot be there. At my last job, I think I called out 3 times in the 3 years I worked there. Twice were food poisoning and once for a family emergency. I had never had food poisoning before and I got it twice within, I think, 1 or 2 years. It is absolutely awful and I don’t wish the pain on anyone. Another thing I don’t do is go to the doctor or emergency room all of the time, rarely do I go and it better be because I’m dying or I can’t stop the bleeding. Per my mom’s instruction throughout the years. I went to the E.R. like 2 years ago because I had something called G.E.R.D. which I never even knew existed. I was up in Georgia with my fiancée and we had drank the night before, so we were a little hungover. We decided to go find a Five Guys Burgers & Fries which was like 45 minutes away, but it seemed fun to go on a mini road trip. While I was getting ready, my mom called and told me my step-grandfather had passed away that morning from cancer. We all knew it was coming, but I guess it hit me harder than I thought it would. We started driving to Five Guys and my stomach started to hurt. I thought maybe it was motion sickness because that always happens when I get in the back seat or ride in a car for a while. When we got to Five Guys, I went to use the restroom because I thought maybe it’s just the hangover. I made myself get sick, I pooped, I tried everything and I ended up clogging the toilet which was super fucking embarrassing since we hadn’t even eaten yet. The employee who brought the plunger was like, “are you okay?” And I was like, “yeah, just super embarrassed.” It was awful. Still, I didn’t feel any better, I felt worse. I was in a “YOLO, fuck it” kind of mood and I proceeded to order my burger and eat which was good, but I felt even worse. Usually, when I have a hangover, I eat a big greasy burger to try to soak up the alcohol. Depending on how much I drank. So, we start heading home and my stomach is tied up in a knot. It was up at the top and I literally felt like I was going to need surgery. I was in tears, I couldn’t get comfortable, it was the worst pain (almost) that I’ve ever felt. We get back to the house and my fiancée puts pillows under my legs, nothing. Rubs my stomach, nothing. Gets me a glass of water, nothing. They had been asking me if I wanted to go to the E.R. but I was trying to tough it out. Finally, I gave in and we went to this really nice hospital that looked like they weren’t even open but we went in anyway. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. I was hunched over in the chair, crying, and I didn’t know what was happening to my body. They bring me back and give me this concoction made from the gods. I have no idea what was in it, but it instantly untangled the knot and I felt like walking right out of there. It was fantastic. The doctor had a crush on me, I guess, but mildly (?) accused me of being an alcoholic because apparently I drink more than normal people. I said I drink casually and that was met with the response, “some people do heroin casually, too.” Because obviously those two go hand in hand. Silly me. I felt my face involuntarily twist into a WTF look almost immediately after I realized what was just said and that was the end of that. I didn’t feel so comfortable anymore.

I know I bounce around topics a lot, but I truly think they’re going to be interesting when I start them and when they’re not, leave them anyway. Honestly, I sometimes think that maybe someday, someone will find my blog or my journal and read about me and be genuinely interested in every little detail about me, even the bad stuff. I know my fiancée is, but she doesn’t count.

When I got home from work earlier, I decided to install the nesting boxes for my chickens and a bar for them on top.

It’s still a work in progress, but they’re screwed into the wood behind them. I have those things under them because I still need to put up a few more things so they don’t fall. They snapped their old roosting bar because they’re my little fatties, so I made this one from PVC pipe with duct tape around it for grip.

I’m starting to run a fever and get body aches, so I’m going to go ahead and wrap this up. Should I put a disclaimer for all the shit I just wrote? Is that necessary?

Disclaimer: I am not by any means condoning or suggesting drinking or smoking or whatever you just read. I’m simply relaying my life story.

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